


control yourself (or, that one time Beau's cool monk shit wasn't enough)

by CRomoConclave



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Desperation, Established Relationship, F/F, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRomoConclave/pseuds/CRomoConclave
Summary: Any monk worth their salt has impeccable control over their body and mind, so as far as Beau is concerned, there is absolutely no reason she should have to interrupt a lovely snuggle with her girlfriend just to deal with her pesky bladder.Mistakes are made, lessons are learned, monks are embarrassed, and maybe Yasha is enjoying all of this more than she should.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	control yourself (or, that one time Beau's cool monk shit wasn't enough)

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like there is a distinct lack of omo in the Critical Role fandom (although don't get me wrong, there are some very good CR omo fics out there) so I am here to fill that niche.
> 
> Chapter one is purely omo. Additional tags will be added when chapter two is (eventually) posted, but none of the other sexual or kink content is involved in chapter one, so if you're just here for the omo, that's the chapter for you. Similarly: the explicit tag exists in anticipation of chapter two.
> 
> If you've made it this far, and you don't know what omorashi is, give it a quick google. It's not everyone's cup of tea. If it's not your thing, just move right along. If it is your thing, make yourself right at home. Stick around for a while. Enjoy.

They had all earned a relaxing night, or at least that was what Beau told herself as she downed her fourth beer.

Quite frankly, their last couple of days had been pretty easy. The Gentleman had contracted them to guard a shipment of stolen goods on a two-day journey. It was bland mercenary work, but the Gentleman paid well, and he was a worthwhile ally. If staying on his good side meant doing a job that was too easy for them, then the Mighty Nein were happy to do it.

They had returned to Zadash earlier that evening and had gone straight to the Evening Nip to inform the Gentleman that the shipment had gone smoothly. Pleased with their work, he had handed over the promised gold and offered them a free round of drinks.

"C'mon guys, we deserve a night to unwind," Beau had said, and Nott had eagerly egged them all on. That was how they found themselves still in the Evening Nip hours later, with many empty bottles on the table in front of them.

In her defense, Beau was not _drunk_ , but she was certainly tipsy. Yasha was too, judging by the pink tint to her cheeks and the way she had been finding more and more excuses to touch Beau as the night went on. First it was just a light touch to Beau's arm as Yasha laughed at a joke she had made, but now she had an arm around Beau's shoulder and kept staring at her when she thought no one was watching. This was unusual, not because their relationship was even remotely a secret, but because Yasha was typically very timid about any type of PDA. When they were alone together, showing affection was easy for Yasha, but in public she was still reticent about her romantic life.

Nott and Jester had somehow convinced the tavern's musicians to let them try out their instruments, so the room was filled with discordant notes from the squeaking violin on Jester's shoulder and the lute that Nott was plucking with her long nails. Caduceus accompanied them, periodically blowing into his bone flute and emitting a sound even more shrill than either of the others were able to produce. Caleb was off in a corner, casting Dancing Lights and letting Frumpkin chase them as they darted around on the floor, and Fjord had joined a card game with some of The Gentleman's associates. Beau was more than happy to sit back and watch her friends goof off, as she rested her head on Yasha's shoulder and felt Yasha's fingers running idly through her hair.

However, the four beers were catching up to her, and Beau needed to pee. Badly. They had been at the tavern for hours, and Beau hadn't gone to the bathroom even once, but she'd had quite a bit to drink. Between the beers and the water she'd been sipping throughout the night, her bladder had been filling for a while. It was beginning to feel urgent, but it was so unusual for Yasha to be affectionate when their friends were around, and she was so cozy, so she crossed her legs, snuggled up closer to Yasha, and tried to ignore her need.

For the most part, it wasn't too bad if she didn't think about it. She had certainly been more desperate at other times in her life, and it had turned out fine. Long days of training at the Cobalt Soul had left her on the verge of squirming and leaking more times than she could count. She could handle this easily, as long as she didn't think about her bladder and instead focused on Yasha. Yasha with her warm embrace, and her sweet smile that made Beau feel all sorts of sappy things that she didn't care to admit to anyone else. Yasha with her arm around her shoulder, so soft and so comfortable that Beau could just doze off right here and right now.

"You know, if I had my bone harp, maybe I would be up there with them right now," Yasha said, interrupting Beau's increasingly dreamy train of thought. Beau lifted her head to see Yasha gesture across the room to their friends who were still confidently performing horribly squeaky music at the front of the tavern.

"Yasha and the Orphanmakers could have their first real performance," Beau said. "Featuring special guest Nott on the whatever-the-fuck she's playing right now."

Yasha chuckled, and Beau felt her heart flutter at the sound. “I bet if we tried, we could find an instrument for you to play too,” Yasha suggested.

“Oh, uh, no thanks. I think I'd be a better groupie than a band member.” Beau said.

Yasha tilted her head slightly. “What's a groupie?”

“Someone who, like―” Beau began, but her breath hitched as a strong wave of desperation hit her. She squirmed in her seat, too focused on not letting herself leak to feel embarrassed until finally the urge began to subside.

“Are you okay?” Yasha asked, concern obvious in her expression.

Shit. Well now she was embarrassed.

“Uh, yeah, I'm fine,” Beau said, trying, and failing, not to sound flustered. “Just feeling a bit... restless and got distracted. But it's out of my system now.”

“We can get up if you'd like,” Yasha offered.

“No, no, I love it here,” Beau said. “This is perfect.”

“Okay,” Yasha said, smiling softly at her. Beau's heart fluttered once more (gods, she would do anything to make Yasha smile), and she rested her head on Yasha's shoulder once more, trying to ignore her bladder for a little bit longer.

As time passed, ignoring her desperation became more difficult. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on how nice it felt to have Yasha playing with her hair. She even tried listening to wail of the bone flute (the playing had gotten even worse, if that was possible, since Caduceus had handed it over to Jester to let her try), hoping that it would serve as an effective distraction from her rapidly filling bladder, but it was getting hard to focus on anything but her desperation, and she knew she would need to get up soon. Suddenly, she tensed up as she felt her bladder contract and her boxers grew slightly damp.

"You sure you're okay, Beau?" Yasha asked, noticing her girlfriend's apparent discomfort.

"Yeah, I just need―", Beau started, but was cut off by the arrival of the rest of the group.

"We're heading back to the Leaky Tap," Fjord said. "It's getting late."

Beau considered telling the others that she needed to use the bathroom before they left, but she didn't want to make everyone wait for her, and the inn wasn't all that far away. It would be a quick walk, and she figured she could hold it a bit longer. As a monk, she was known for her willpower and control of her body. Surely maintaining control of her bladder for ten more minutes wouldn't be an issue.

Five minutes later, Beau was regretting her decision. Her boxers were substantially less dry than they'd been upon leaving the Evening Nip, and every step she took seemed to jostle her bladder even more. She knew she wasn't being as subtle as she should be: her posture was stiff, and she'd hardly said a word during their walk back to the inn; Yasha had asked twice if she was feeling okay, but Beau had stubbornly refused to admit that anything was wrong, so Yasha had resorted to walking quietly alongside her and giving her worried looks. There _was_ nothing wrong, as far as Beau was concerned. For the gods' sake, she could catch an arrow in midair with her bare hands. There was absolutely no way she couldn't control her body well enough to wait five minutes without wetting herself.

Her unfounded confidence was shattered almost immediately, as a wave of desperation caused her control to waver, and she felt a steady trickle of pee begin to leave her body. She stopped in her tracks, focusing all of her willpower on _not peeing_. Not yet. Not _here_.

"Beau?" It was Yasha's voice. "Are you okay?"

Shit. The whole group was looking at her. What was she supposed to say to them? _No, I'm not okay, I'm wetting my pants_ , was not an option. Thankfully, it was also no longer true, as she'd regained control of her bladder, at least for the time being. _I feel kind of sick_. No, that wouldn't help. They would just want to get her back to the inn, and she'd certainly wet herself along the way.

"I, uh, gotta piss, so I'm just gonna duck into this alley real quick," she said hurriedly. An honest answer, but not too honest. It wasn't like none of the guys had ever peed in an alley on the way home from a tavern. It was certainly much less embarrassing than admitting that she had already started wetting herself. She just hoped that none of them could see that the crotch of her pants was wet. They all seemed to be looking her in the eye, rather than staring at her pants, so that seemed like a good sign.

"I'll come with you," Nott said, "and keep an eye out."

"No," Beau said, a bit too fast to be subtle. "It's fine. I can handle myself, guys."

She raced into the alley before Nott had time to object. She was single-mindedly focused on her task: she just had to get far enough into the alley that the Mighty Nein couldn't see her, pull down her pants, and then pee. In that order.

The next thing she knew, there was a hand over her mouth, and she'd been shoved roughly against the wall.

"Give me your money pouch, and, um, there doesn't have to be any trouble."

Godsdammit. She had let a petty thief sneak up on her and judging by the unsteady tone of his voice, not even a good one. Usually her reflexes were sharp, but four beers and a painfully full bladder had thoroughly distracted her. The thief didn't appear to be that strong but, gods, his timing couldn't be any worse. He had startled her, and she could feel that her pants were now even wetter than when she had entered the alleyway. She was certain her bladder was going to empty itself any moment, whether she was ready for it or not.

She braced herself against the wall and kicked as hard as she could, easily breaking free from his grip. Two blows to the head, and the thief was already looking the worse for wear. He swung at her, and she tried to move out of the way, but his fist connected: a solid punch right to her stomach. That was more than she could take. Whatever semblance of control she had still held over her bladder evaporated, and she began peeing full force into her pants with no hope of stopping.

Four more blows, rapid-fire, and the thief fell unconscious to the ground. Beau stuffed her hands between her legs, trying frantically to stop the flow, but nothing helped. There she was, standing in an alley, wetting herself uncontrollably.

"Beau, are you alright? We thought we heard something."

Beau had never been less happy to hear Fjord's voice in her entire life. She turned her head to see, for the second time that evening, the entire Mighty Nein staring at her. Her dark blue Cobalt Soul attire hid the quickly-spreading wetness, but there was no mistaking the hands shoved between her legs or the puddle growing beneath her feet. Or the unconscious body on the ground next to her.

If the circumstances had been less humiliating, Beau might have found it funny. It was an absurd scene to walk in on. Beau, in the 20 seconds that she had been left alone, had managed to encounter a would-be robber, knock him unconscious, and thoroughly pee her pants. Certainly it was a lot for the others to take in, but Beau prayed to the gods that they would stop staring at her and allow her to finish wetting her pants in relative peace. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could simply evaporate out of embarrassment and never have to make eye contact with any of them again.

"The danger seems to be taken care of. We will be right out here on the street," Caleb said a little too loudly, turning away and pulling a dumbfounded Nott and Jester with him. Fjord and Caduceus followed them out with no hesitation, but Yasha paused, seemingly unable to leave Beau alone. Beau, in response, stared pointedly at the ground until Yasha conceded and walked back to the street to wait with the others.

After what felt like an eternity, her bladder was finally empty. Her pants were soaked, and her ego was bruised, but the relief was immense. The good feeling was short-lived, however, as she realized she would have to leave the alley and face her friends, who had just watched her wet herself uncontrollably.

"Fuck," she muttered, and kicked the wall in frustration. She kicked the unconscious thief too, for good measure, and then stomped out of the alley.

"Shut up," she said, before the others even had time to open their mouths. "If anybody says a word about this, I'll fucking deck you."

Hoping that her wet pants didn't detract too much from her intimidation, she marched ahead of the group and trekked back to the inn without saying another word.


End file.
